


Equalling Two

by Not_You



Series: one only understands the things that one tames [20]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Clint Needs a Hug, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massage, Phil Needs a Hug, Separation Anxiety, Service Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Phil need a moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equalling Two

The house is closed up and Phil doesn’t want to go back there anyway, because Clint isn’t there. Clint is here in his arms and at first, and they just hold each other for a long time. Clint is so utterly broken, so small and needy in his arms, mumbling desperate apologies through a haze of tears as he fights to get as close as he can to Phil without climbing inside him. Phil glances up at his old friend, still lurking in the background, and for a moment he honestly despises Nick. Most of it melts away at the guilt on that well-known face, and he sighs, rubbing Clint’s back.

“How long?” He asks softly.

“Month,” Clint whimpers, buried somewhere in Phil’s chest where it still aches, but damned if he’s going to tell his sub to ease up.

“Jesus. I’m so sorry, baby boy,” he whispers, rubbing Clint’s back. 

Phil doesn’t actually explain his return until much later. First he has to comfort Clint, and then Clint has to scream at Nick, body vibrating with rage. Nick just takes it, and says nothing as Phil leads his sub out. He doesn’t trust himself to drive yet, and Clint has sobered up a lot under stress, but is still legally drunk. A SHIELD driver takes them back to the tower, and like the well-trained professional she is, she doesn’t ask any questions. Phil is profoundly grateful, and soon they’re inside and safely on Clint’s floor. Phil’s phone buzzes, and he checks it to find that the rest of team has been alerted of Phil’s recovery, and ordered to leave him and Clint alone. He has to smile, because he’s sure they’ll take their usual attitude to direct orders. Clint whimpers, and Phil takes him to bed, just wrapping around him and holding him.

It’s inevitable that both of them fall asleep, and Phil doesn’t wake up until Clint starts to jerk and whine softly, struggling to pull himself out of a bad dream. Phil shakes him gently, murmuring, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.” He isn’t very surprised when Clint bursts into renewed tears and clings to him hard enough to bruise.

“Where were you?” Clint whispers at last, and Phil sighs.

“I did die, just not for very long. They couldn’t fully revive me, but some effect of the spear had kept my brain cells from going bad like they should have, and the wound closed fast. I was just hanging there, in a vegetative state for no physical reason, when R and D came through with these synaptic probes. They were able to repair and reactivate my brain, but the odds of success were so low that they decided it was safer not to tell anyone.”

“Fuckers,” Clint mutters, and Phil kisses the top of his head.

“I’m just glad it worked, sweetheart. The worst part of dying was knowing I was leaving you alone.”

Clint whines and somehow snuggles even closer. “Not quite alone,” he says after another long silence of just being together. 

“Oh?”

“Steve’s been taking care of me.” Phil blushes, feeling all kinds of things at this revelation. “Just the emotional stuff.”

“I see.” Every Cap fan knows about Steve Rogers, struggling against the prejudice against physically small male doms in addition to his myriad illnesses until the serum changed everything, and the open secret of James Barnes being his sub. There hadn’t been time before for Phil to really absorb just how little time it had been for Steve since Barnes’s death, and he shudders, tightening his grip on Clint.

“W-would it be okay if we kept doing that?” Clint asks softly.

“Of course,” Phil says, nuzzling Clint’s hair, so much longer than the last time he saw him. “I owe him too much to complain even if I wanted to.”

“It’s because of you I’m still alive,” Clint whispers. “I knew you wanted me to live, so I did.”

“Because you’re my good boy,” Phil says, voice cracking as he tips Clint’s face up to kiss him. They both can’t seem to stop apologizing to each other, only silenced by kiss after kiss. They spend the rest of the day in bed, dozing and waking to find each other anew, tracing beloved features like braille. They don’t even separate when Clint finally says that he needs to take a leak. Phil just follows him into the bathroom and sits on the edge of the tub to wait. He feels wrung out, and there’s a slight headache starting behind his eyes. He sighs and rubs his chest as Clint washes his hand.

“You all right, boss?” Clint asks, and there isn’t much that Phil wouldn’t give up to take that deep fear out of his eyes.

“Yeah, just some residual pain, I think. It hurt a lot.”

Clint whines, kneeling on the floor in front of Phil, a hand on either knee. “I hate to think about that, master. I hate to think of you hurting without me there to help.” He rests his head on Phil’s thigh, trembling.

Phil sighs, petting him with one hand, the other rubbing his back. “It got so bad I wanted to die again, and I thought they were lying about fixing me, because you weren’t there.” Clint sobs, and Phil tightens his grip. “That wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault, and when Nick saw how bad it was, he arranged for me to… go away. They put me in some kind of hypnotic state for the rest of it.”

“…Wow.”

“I feel guilty because I didn’t spend all my time suffering. I spent a lot of it in an imaginary shack in Tahiti, with my memories of you.”

Clint grins up at him, eyes still full of tears. “Good.” He hides his face again, sniffling and dampening Phil’s pant leg with tears. “I… It’s good to know you had a dream to look after you. I dreamed of you, too.”

Phil bends forward, wrapping over Clint and hugging him tightly. They stay like that until another twinge of pain makes Phil sit up. Clint looks up, and seems to reach a decision. He kisses Phil and starts to fill the tub, going into the other room for his phone without letting Phil out of his sight, and calling Fury.

“Sir. …Yes. …I see. I want multiple copies of those care instructions. An hour ago, that’s when I fucking want them!” He continues to berate Nick, who from the sound of it is just taking it again, an unprecedented wonder. People yell at Nick Fury without reprisal, but no one gets to do it more than once. Phil supposes that Clint is right, and that it is good to be special. He shuts off the water when it’s the right depth and temperature, and folds his pants and sets them on the closed lid of the toilet before sliding into the tub with a sigh. He may not have kept track of the passage of time, but his body seems to know full well that it has been over a month since his last proper bath, or even a real shower. Phil tips his head back and rests there, smiling when Clint comes in.

“Turns out heat is just the right thing, boss.”

“Mm.” Phil just sits there, a bit surprised when Clint doesn’t join him in the tub. Instead, he kneels beside it. His shirt is long gone, thrown aside along with Phil’s to let them get closer, and he puts his bare arms in the water, strong and wonderfully real hands pressing on Phil’s chest, kneading and stroking at the muscles around the scar. Phil hadn’t even noticed how bad it had truly become, and moans in relief as Clint works.


End file.
